


Epiphany

by gluedwithgold



Series: But They're Brothers! [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Love, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Pining, Pre-Slash, Weecest, Wet Dream, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/pseuds/gluedwithgold
Summary: Dean has a realization about Sam.





	Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by my darlings, [non_tiembo_mala](http://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala) and  
> [Dancing Adrift](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift)

Dean slid open the door to the crappy efficiency apartment they were stuck living in, almost one in the morning and half drunk from a night at the bar. He’d had at least three women hitting on him, one guy, too – could have gone home with any of them, but he just wasn’t feeling it. Hadn’t been feeling it for a while now, something niggling in the back of his brain telling him ‘no, this isn’t what you want anymore.’ So he’d played pool, scammed a guy out of a hundred bucks, gotten comfortably buzzed on beer and headed home. 

He pushed the door closed, turning the knob first so it didn’t clunk loudly and wake up Sam. The small light over the sink was still on, casting a dim yellow glow through the room – his little brother had left it on when he went to bed, Dean was sure, knowing he’d be drunk and saving him from stumbling over the furniture in the dark. 

Dean shucked his jacket and tossed it over the back of the recliner, the air in the apartment stuffy and too warm. It was the middle of August, had been in the mid-nineties that day with humidity thick enough to make it feel like you were trying to breathe underwater when you stepped outside. And of course the apartment didn’t have A/C. Dean made a mental note to try to find a thrift store tomorrow, pick up a fan to at least move the air around. 

He headed across the room toward the bathroom, set on having a quick shower to rinse off the sweat and grime of the day and the bar before bed. He got to the foot of the pull-out couch and stopped short, his breath hitching, catching in his throat on an inhale. 

Sam was sprawled on the bed, on his side with one knee pulled up and crossed over his other outstretched leg, his hands tucked up under the pillow. He was wearing just a thin pair of boxers, the blanket kicked down to the foot of the bed, the sheet barely draped over him so it covered half of one thigh and not much else. Dean could see the sheen of sweat on his brother’s body, glittering slightly in the dim light. His hair was spread over the pillow, dark curls contrasting with the white pillowcase, a few damp strands stuck to his forehead and neck. 

Dean swallowed hard, his saliva thick, his throat clicking. He was all too familiar with the tingly feeling spreading outward from his groin. And just to make sure he knew, his cock gave a twitch inside his jeans and began to fill. The sight of his fourteen year old little brother spread out on the bed – the only bed in the place, that Dean was going to have to share with him very soon – was suddenly turning him on like nothing had in months. 

His mind spun as his eyes roamed up and down the length of his brother’s body again – his bare legs now long and lean, muscles popping out in his thighs where they used to be thin and spindly. The curves and dips of his bicep, no longer little-boy straight, but filling out and showing strength. The long expanse of his back, smooth, warm-looking skin covering definition that used to be bird-like and frail, down to the swell of his ass, round and tight. It all made sense now. 

Sam had shot up in height over the past six months, a growth spurt that left their dad cursing because he was outgrowing his clothes and shoes every other month. At the same time, Sam had suddenly taken an interest in the training Dad insisted they do that he’d always complained about before – and obviously it was paying off. Living in each other’s pockets the way they did, of course Dean hadn’t noticed outright, but his little brother wasn’t so little anymore. Apparently Dean’s fucked up brain had noticed just fine. 

It made sense, Dean thought while he stood there ogling his brother. Sam was the most important thing in his life, and they’d always been closer than ‘normal’ brothers. They lived such a fucked up existence that it wasn’t really surprising to him his brain would go there. Wasn’t surprising that random strangers weren’t cutting it anymore. But that didn’t mean he was some kind of pervert, didn’t mean he had to act on it. Sam might not  _ look  _ like a kid anymore, but he was still only fourteen, still not old enough to process something like this well enough to make a decision without it being clouded by the hero worship Dean knew Sam still held for him. No, this was something Dean needed to keep to himself, hidden way down deep in the dirty depths of his mind where it’d never see the light of day. 

He shook his head to break the trance of skin and limbs, turned on his heels and ducked into the bathroom. Dean stripped off his clothes while the shower warmed up, then stepped in under the spray. His cock, which never had been good at listening to reason, was at full attention now, nudging against his stomach begging for attention. Dean ignored it at first, washing his hair and soaping up a washcloth, but as he dragged the cloth over his skin and made his way to his groin in his regular cleaning routine he figured he ought to give in to it, take care of it here in the safety of the shower. He could just imagine waking up in the early hours of the morning to find himself pressed up against Sam with no control over what he was doing. 

He made quick work of finishing cleaning, then dropped the washcloth to the floor of the shower, his hand returning to his body still covered in soap suds and sliding down his stomach. His fingers spiralled around his dick, a light grip at first, sliding up and down a few times slowly. His mind instantly filled again with the image of Sam just a few feet away on the other side of the door, fast asleep. Dean pushed the image aside, reaching into his memory for someone else – numerous women, a handful of guys. He flipped through the stack of mental pictures, settling on that one dude from about a year ago – Tyler was his name. Shorter and leaner than Dean, but built, long dark hair that Dean had gotten off on pulling, and apparently Tyler had gotten off on having pulled. He settled into a quick rhythm, stripping his cock in time to the memory of sliding in and out of Tyler’s lube-slick hole. He could hear the moans Tyler let out, the gasps and shudders when Dean would tug harder on the handful of hair knotted around his fingers, tightening his grasp on his dick as he stroked a little faster….

Then Tyler suddenly became Sam, writhing underneath Dean, Sam’s hair wrapped up in Dean’s fingers, Sam’s tight ass getting slammed into over and over and Dean could  _ hear  _ Sam’s voice in his head, keening and begging and calling out  _ ‘Deeean…’  _

Dean’s knees crumpled, nearly dropping him to the shower floor as his balls drew up in record speed and his cock was shooting long ropes of come across the small space and splattering on the wall. His breath shot out of his lungs as hot and fast as his come and he just barely held himself back from shouting as his vision blurred and turned white, his whole body seizing while waves of stuttering euphoria washed through him. 

As his orgasm subsided and his vision cleared, breath starting to slow to normal, Dean leaned back against the wall of the shower, head cracking against the tile and his arms boneless at his sides. 

It was just a fantasy, no harm done. It made sense, he told himself again, that he’d want Sam. But he wouldn’t act on it, never, not unless Sam came to him. He’d never do that to his brother. He closed his eyes tight and took a long, deep breath, pushed it back out slowly to calm himself. He opened his eyes, pushed himself back upright and rinsed his shameful mess down the drain. He let the water sluice over him for a few more minutes, then stepped out and toweled off, left the bathroom and slipped on clean boxer briefs and a t-shirt. He padded barefoot across the room to click off the light in the kitchen then made his way back to the bed.  

With another deep, calming breath, Dean slipped down onto the mattress next to Sam and let himself relax and close his eyes. 

Five minutes later, Sam rolled over in his sleep, one sweat-damp arm draping over Dean’s stomach, like always. Dean schooled the tremor that started pushing out from the point of contact. 

Another ten minutes later and Sam shifted again, his body pressing up against Dean’s side. Dean could feel the hard length of Sam’s cock pressing against his hip, and he bit down on his lower lip, trapping it between his teeth and pressing down until it hurt. 

In his sleep Sam started to murmur – not the nonsensical noises of a run of the mill dream, or the slightly panicked gasps of a nightmare. There was no mistaking the kind of dream Sam was having, and the way his hips started rolling forward and back, rocking against Dean’s side just confirmed it. 

Dean was seconds away from easing himself out of the bed, extracting himself from this too-new, too-terrifying situation when Sam let out another noise, this time a word, clear as a bell: “Dean….” 

Dean let out the breath he’d been holding in a sharp sigh, clenched his eyes shut against the tears that were welling up and whispered into the dark room. 

“I’m here, Sammy. I’m here.”


End file.
